Flavian Da Silva
by Montieux de voleur
Summary: This my first fanfic ever uploaded to this website. This is an OC of mine that might interest you. Any criticism would help a lot. (Improvements have been made.)


Flavian da Silva is a 28-year old, 5"8 male with long, curly, platinum blonde hair and amber eyes. He has a very clear face, and his facial features are strikingly feminine, particularly the smoothness of his face and the shape of his chin, eyes, and waist. He wears a long, ocean-blue robe that reaches down to his ankles , grey shoes ,and a weather-battered cyan cloak with a hood. He used to live in Vitry-Sur-Seine, France but currently has no permanent residence, though he sometimes takes up shelter in his godfather's home in Earlville, New York.  
Flavian was born into a family reeling from the devastation of the First Omnic Crisis. Despite the squalor his family lived in, it was because of the actions of their father that they managed to survive in the grim environment. Flavian was particularly fond of his father, mostly because of the fantastic stories he told to him and his siblings each night before bedtime. The stories were incredibly fantastic tales of keen-minded folk using magical powers to reach their dreams and achieving things that normal people could not. These tales sparked a wild wonder in Flavian, and he dreamed of using this power to rescue his forlorn family from the maw of disaster that had claimed so many. One day, when he was near old enough to be man , he asked his father about whether those tales held any meaning or whether they were just fantasies to distract superstitious children from the horror of reality. His father responded by making a calm, subtle movement with his hands and, to Flavian's surprise, produced a small blot of silvery- starlight in the palm of his hands. His father then told Flavian of "the Gift"- an ancient form of energy that resided in all humans but only accessible to those with great intellect and ambition. He then explained to Flavian that this Gift could be his- he only needed to reach within himself and pluck it out.  
Once his family finally revived themselves from the disaster of the Omnic Crisis, Flavian spent the better part of his early twenties trying to discover this gift. He resorted to different methods of self-enlightenment over the years, from meditation to advanced computer simulations to ancient voodoo rituals. In a last ditch effort to reach this Gift of his, Flavian traveled to distant Iceland, where old tales told of a group of sorcerers who lived in a decrepit lighthouse, where they looked to the stars for higher enlightenment. Flavian found this lighthouse, but discovered that only one of the sorcerers remained, and he was old and weak of mind. Nonetheless, Flavian studied the old tomes scattered about the dust-ridden place and learned much. He researched for days, but found nothing that pertained to discovering the Gift. He had become quite crestfallen at that moment when he fell into a deep slumber. In this slumber he dreamed of walking amidst the streets of an ancient moonlit city, where the houses shone with an unsettling phosphorescence. In this city he met a strange man garbed all in golden cloth and spoke in an alien tongue that Flavian somehow understood. . The man claimed to be the dreaming counterpart of the old sorcerer who lingered in the lighthouse below, and the man also claimed of being able to illuminate lost souls trying to discover their Gift. Overjoyed, Flavian immediately asked if the man could help him discover his Gift. The man obliged, and placed his hand on Flavian's forehead. At that moment Flavian woke up from his sleep to find the old sorcerer had transpired during the night. Unnerved by what he learned in his terribly lucid sleep, Flavian returned to his home in France only to learn a horrible truth: his father had been badly injured in an anti-Omnic riot, and was being hospitalized for his injuries. Flavian spent much of his time at his crippled father's bedside, often contemplating everything he had done and whether it was all a hopeless farce. But one day, while Flavian was thinking on all his past trials, his father placed his hand on his son's arm and beckoned him to lean forward. As Flavian placed his ear to his fathers' lips, he whispered,  
"Eacorhid Vana'Hess mel Morria dasven kaiterel" " _Never let go of the Gift, for it is not meant to be shared. Use it well. Ftha'Lagin, forgive me..."  
_ As those final words were spoken, and his father's dying breath faded away , a thin strand of silvery-starlight crept from his lips and dissipated into Flavian's form. At that moment Flavian was consumed by remorse and wonder. Vowing to stay true to his fathers' words, Flavian travelled the world, learning all he could about all that the Gift could provide.  
Flavian is an egocentric yet soft-spoken intellectual who is highly ambitious in his search for arcane power, and as such only cooperates with those who are utterly unaware of his motives. His array of spells are somewhat limited, but devastating. He can conjure up a beam of pure light to strike foes from afar, and can summon orbs of crystalline matter to orbit around him, where he can send them hurtling at foes who get to close to him. Despite his powers, Flavian is terribly inexperienced with hand-to-hand combat, and crumples easily under even minimal damage.


End file.
